


(I'll Make You) Say You Want Me

by Her_Madjesty



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon What Canon, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Jealousy, Magic Manipulation, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Potential Dub-Con, Revenge, Revenge Sex, Threesome - F/F/M, Wet Dream, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 07:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14666445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Her_Madjesty/pseuds/Her_Madjesty
Summary: A wet dream, Madalena thought with a snort. Typical.





	(I'll Make You) Say You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> A prompted piece that has brought me back to fanfiction. Happy summer ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Recommended listening (as the requester wanted singing to be involved, a la traditional Galavant, but I don't do song fics): [Choke, by I DONT KNOW HOW THEY FOUND ME](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvJjmWTg7Qo)
> 
> Alternatively: [I Love You (As Much As Someone Like Me Could Love Anyone), Cast of Galavant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3GCfm0Hh3-I)

Madalena eyed the florescent pink of Isabella’s cell and fought back a shiver.

Her contact in the Hortensian Court had enchanted the girl’s mirror without question. It had taken a little more effort to secure the mirror’s double, but as undisputed queen of Richard’s Kingdom, Madalena had managed. Though her fledgling magic made it difficult to maintain the image, she now had an uninterrupted view of Princess Isabella’s cell, peppered as it was with frills, bows, and abject femininity.

This dip into magic was proving useful for keeping an eye on her enemies, Madalena reasoned, but this – this was absurd. She didn’t need to see this. She wasn’t even the one being exposed to this less-than-subtle attempt at subjugation, and she still felt goosebumps rising on her skin. She grit her teeth against a wave of nausea and forced herself to continue watching the captive princess.

Pity for her rival tasted disgusting. Empathy was even worse.

Isabella, at least, had had the dignity to fall face down on her bed, spread out so Madalena couldn’t see her eyes, still puffy from furious crying. Instead, the queen could study her form and choke her sympathy to death with satisfaction. It wasn’t as though the princess was going to mind her imprisonment – well, she would, but she’d get over it soon enough. Even – this, with its mannequin and ribbons and marital expectations was a step up from Richard’s dungeon. There was no real need to pity the girl.

Still, Madalena flinched as Isabella rolled over in her bed. The princess’s hair was falling out of her braid; the pins holding the wrap up had to be digging into her scalp, though she showed no sign of stirring. The redness of her eyes had, at least, reduced. Even the catch of her dress around her legs didn’t seem to disturb her, though the Hortensian humidity drew its fabric close to her skin.

Madalena examined her rival. The neckline of her dress did the princess no favors, but it was easy to see that she was – above average. It was no surprise that her Gal had rebounded with this girl; true, their kiss was rumored to have been abysmal, but there was a certain appeal to the petite figure sprawled across that mistake of a bed. In a pinch, and with the right motivation, she would do. No, Madalena reasoned; pity was not what the princess deserved.

(There had been a girl, before Galavant had plunged head-first into her life – Lauren, back in that sinkhole of a village Madalena had grown up in. Lauren had kissed her behind her father’s pig pen and tugged her hair with eager fingers; later that same evening, the two of them had cuddled together on Madalena’s straw bed and gushed over the muscles on some anonymous farmer’s son. But then had come Gal, his eyes hot as they flashed across her skin. In her haste to draw him into her bed, Madalena had left Lauren far behind.)

Isabella shifted again, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. Madalena snorted and prepared to turn away; it was too perfect a picture, this woman Galavant had replaced her with. Only an incoherent murmur from the sleeping princess stopped her from calling the spell to an end.

Madalena raised an eyebrow as the princess’s hand ghosted across her thigh, fingers catching on the wrinkled fabric. Even in sleep, the princess bit her lip as a flush rose on her cheeks. Her hand brushed over her clit, and she inhaled sharply. The ride of her skirt around her legs was barely visible in the darkness of her room, but the pink cast her skin in a soft glow.

Madalena’s magic may not have been strong enough to pick up every noise that the princess made, but it didn’t take a magician to recognize the moment she called for Galavant.

 _A wet dream_ , Madalena thought with a snort. _Typical_.

Galavant, the queen knew, would fall to his knees at the sight of his would-be lover craving him like this. It was clear that the girl had her own needs, too; whether or not she would want the handsome ex-knight on his knees wasn’t the question. It was just a matter of when she would get him there.

Madalena let a rush of jealousy and irritation crash over her as Isabella pressed into her hand again. Her own fingers tingled, longing for something to grab, to smash, to caress.

Richard was never going to be satisfying. The jester, for the breadth of his – ability, alongside her several consorts – they scratched the itch, but they were lacking in so many disappointing ways. This, though – this encounter had dual potential.

Madalena leaned back on her four poster bed, taking the mirror with her as she went. Isabella’s movements were slow with sleep, but the gentle roll of her hips made more than vengeance stir in the queen’s belly. Still, it was a good excuse: playing with the girl would make up for Madalena’s unwanted pity and for the gall Gal had shown in moving on.

Really, what better excuse could she ask for?

Madalena concentrated, first on the pillows in Isabella’s room, then on the princess, and then on her own fingers. With a few murmured words and a twist of her wrist, Madalena saw Isabella’s eyes snap open. The hand teasing her clit stilled.

“Hello?”

Madalena watched as Isabella glanced around her room, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. The princess’s shoulders dropped as she took in her surroundings, unable to see Madalena’s eyes peering at her through the otherwise innocuous mirror. Instead, she dropped her gaze to her lap and frowned at her hands.

“It’s alright, precious,” Madalena murmured, sarcasm slick on her tongue. “Let me work my magic. I promise that you’ll like it.”

“That’s strange,” Isabella whispered, unaware of the queen’s voice singing some hundreds of miles away. Madalena grinned as she bit her lip. “Why would I think of –?”

The darkness made it difficult to detect any change in her flush, but Madalena studied the princess with care. The spell that let her slip into Isabella’s mind took more of her concentration than she would have liked, but all she had to do was supplement Galavant’s image with her own for a little while longer, and the girl’s imagination would do the rest of her work for her. It wasn’t quite mind control, she reasoned – just a bit of manipulation.

Madalena feasted on satisfaction as Isabella shook her head, trying her best to clear it. “I don’t understand,” she heard the princess murmured, even as her hand drifted back to her clit. Madalena didn’t have to struggle to imagine that persistent tug of desire. She spread her own legs on her bed and leaned back so she could rest her head against her nest of pillows. Galavant, she knew, would have adored them, had he allowed himself to; Madalena could imagine shoving his face into them as he whined, her hand on his cock and her slick against his thigh.

The image in her mind shifted; now, Galavant watched her as she enchanted his would-be paramour; Isabella whimpered, glassy-eyed as she drowned in magic-indused lust; Madalena pumped her fingers in and out of her cunt and smiled, just smiled. Poor Galavant would have to be restrained, she knew, as she drew the fantasy out; he was as likely to try and stop her as he was to try and drive her closer to the orgasm that was just out of reach.

Madalena laughed. Through the mirror, Isabella hitched up her skirts properly, leaving them clumped around her thighs so she could rub against her clit more easily.

“That’s right, sweet thing,” Madalena purred. “Let him go. Just think of me for awhile; I’m so much better that this than he’ll ever be.”

Hundreds of miles away, Isabella’s mouth fell open. Madalena’s smile grew sharper as the princess fell back on her too-small bed, one hand clapped across her lips. It was quick to slip down to her breast; Madalena appreciated the desperation in the princess’s movements as she struggled to undo the laces holding her top closed.

As Madalena’s own hand brushed against her cunt, Isabella called not for Galavant, but for her. The sharp tug of satisfaction in her clit nearly broke the queen’s concentration on her spell; she swore, bit her lip, and redoubled her efforts.

XXX

Alone in her cousin’s castle, Isabella – couldn’t pull her thoughts together. The humidity of Hortencia’s air made her dress stick to every curve, but even that couldn’t explain why her skin felt so tight, so hot. It was as though she was floating, dancing, covered from head to toe with a tingling that she couldn’t control. She tried to focus, but in her mind’s eye, Galavant settled between her thighs, and Madalena lingered at her breasts, her wicked tongue brushing against Isabella’s nipples over and over and over again.

Isabella groaned and let her head fall back against her pillow. It wasn’t right, but try as she might, she couldn’t force the queen from her thoughts. Madalena had dug in like a bur, and the longer she remained, the less Isabella wanted to drive her away.

A whimper escaped her. In her mind’s eye, Madalena’s breasts slipped from her corset; they drew Isabella’s attention and refused to let her look anywhere else. Even the imagined brush of Galavant’s beard against her thighs grew distant as Isabella stared, wet and wanting. Her lips ached; distantly, she was shocked, but the foremost thought in her mind demanded that she worship the other woman’s breasts until she couldn’t think anymore.

“That’s right, sweet thing.” Madalena’s voice echoed in her mind, both distant and immediate. Isabella arched her back as the imagined queen brushed her fingers across her thighs, her gaze remaining fixed on the swell of the other woman’s breasts. “Let him go. Just think of me for awhile; I’m so much better that this than he’ll ever be.”

Isabella moaned – too loudly, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She lost track of her own hands as the imagined Madalena took over for Galavant entirely, slipping a leg between Isabella’s thighs for her to ride. The queen’s hair curtained the both of them from view as she leaned down, wicked mouth pressing against Isabella’s pulse. Isabella cried out again as she imagined Madalena biting down.

The hand on her clit moved faster, faster, faster, and Isabella’s spine arched as she felt the last of her thoughts drift away into nothingness. There was only Madalena; only the other woman’s touch, breasts, breath, and voice in Isabella’s head. Isabella hid herself in Madalena’s collarbone and let herself drift, hips pressing her slick cunt against the queen’s thigh. The world narrowed until she was shivering in darkness and heat. Every touch, imagined or not, felt as though it would push her over the edge into bliss.

“That’s right,” Madalena purred. “Give in. You don’t need him; you’ll never need him again. Not when you can have me.”

Isabella gasped. She could almost smell the other woman’s perfume; the musk of it clouded her senses and sent her reeling into white bright pleasure. She came, twitching against her own fingers as desperation and magic danced on her tongue.

“Good girl,” Madalena said, somewhere in the back of her mind.

The part of Isabella that was still logical wanted to flick the women off. The rest of her, still shivering with orgasm, only mewled in response, too lost to care about the queen’s presence in her head.

XXX

Madalena set the mirror aside and let the spell fade, exhaustion resting heavy in her bones. Her own orgasm lingered like a slow fire, stoked all the higher by the thought of Galavant’s tortured confusion and Isabella’s lust. She couldn’t fight the heaviness in her eyes, but she let sparks dance between her fingers as sleep began to take her.

Perhaps there was a path for her, somewhere among all this magic. It was one that she would have to seek with more – determination. More practice. More – enthusiasm.


End file.
